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<title>They say home is where the heart is...(But that's not where mine lives) by moon_knight13</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597167">They say home is where the heart is...(But that's not where mine lives)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_knight13/pseuds/moon_knight13'>moon_knight13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gay Harley Keener, Gay Peter Parker, Getting Together, Ghost boi peter, Happy Ending, He gets one ;), Hydra Peter Parker, I'm really not good at tagging, Lonely Peter, M/M, Narrator Harley Keener, Not-Spiderman Movies compliant, Oops, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Harley Keener, They both are happy at the end, how do you tag, my smol bois, peter is not an avenger, uwu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:20:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_knight13/pseuds/moon_knight13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley goes to New York for a job.<br/>He ends up getting much more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>They say home is where the heart is...(But that's not where mine lives)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Move, you’re blocking the television,” I said.<br/>
No response.<br/>
“Come on, I wanna watch the television,” I said again.<br/>
He looked at me.<br/>
More like turned his head 180° and looked at me.<br/>
“Ughh, don’t do that, that’s creepy,” I looked away from him. </p><p>You must be wondering, what the hell? Turned his head 180°?<br/>
He’s my roommate. His name is Peter. And he’s a ghost. </p><p>My, my, where are my manners?<br/>
I am Harley Keener. I am 22 years old. Currently living in New York. I was born in Rose Hills, Tennessee, but came to  New York for a job, after the last of my living relatives, my sister passed away.<br/>
And that’s how I met him. </p><p>It was a Wednesday, I remember that. It had been raining. I unlocked the door to the apartment. No one lives here. They say there’s a ghost living. And people, obviously are terrified of ghosts. I believed it. Not that I was terrified, but yeah I believed it. </p><p>I believe that’s how it started. With me believing it.<br/>
It wasn’t much at the starting, I just felt like there was a figure, lurking here and there. And I’ll be lying if I said it didn’t scare the shit out of me.</p><p>The first time I saw him, he was sitting in a corner. Watching something. I never found out what.<br/>
I won’t lie, the scream I let out, would put a steam engine to shame.<br/>
I must have blanked out for a few minutes because when I regained consciousness, he had his hands over his ears, frozen, eyes shut tight and tears streaming down his face.</p><p>“W-What ar-are you?!” I asked him, my voice so high pitched that I will never admit it.<br/>
He was shaking, if anything, he looked more terrified than me.<br/>
“Please, I mean no harm, I swear, I’m not bad, please, please, please, don’t hurt me, I beg you-”<br/>
He was rambling.<br/>
For one fleeting second, I felt pity for him.<br/>
He looked so small, so terrified.<br/>
“Wh-what are you?” I repeated, not being able to say anything else.</p><p>Finally, he looked up.<br/>
God, I’ll be lying if I said he wasn’t the most beautiful boy I had seen.</p><p>“P-Peter. Wh-who are you?” His voice was so small.<br/>
“H-Harley. Harley Keener. Why are you in my apartment?” The last bit came out rougher than I intended to, I guess.</p><p>“I-I live here. Or at least did when I was alive. Please, I mean no harm.”<br/>
“Oh my God, You’re a ghost? Stay away from me!” I shrieked.<br/>
He winced.<br/>
“I mean no harm. I never do. I don’t even want to be a ghost. Please, I don’t have anywhere else to go. This is my home.”</p><p>That was how our first meeting went.</p><p>For quite some time afterwards, I was scared of him. He would just appear, and that would scare the living daylights out of me. I would be just so scared of him.</p><p>I got used soon enough. </p><p>Turns out, Peter was 23. He was kidnapped by an organisation called HYDRA, which experimented on him. One day, the experiment went wrong, and he died.<br/>
“When I woke up, it was two years later. I’m that kind of ghost who appears because people believe in them. I hate being a ghost. At first, I was just so confused. I would try to talk to people, but they would just run away. And I would be so hurt,” he recalled. He did not need to tell me that it hurt, I could see tears pooling in his eyes. </p><p>For some reason, I felt something twist in me. Did I feel...bad for him?</p><p>Maybe that was the first time I felt something for him.</p><p> </p><p>Peter loved watching the television. Especially, the animated show about The Avengers.<br/>
The way his eyes sparkled when he saw something he liked, the way his features lit up when he smiled, it made me so happy.<br/>
He made me happy.</p><p>He became my friend. </p><p>He had an abandonment complex, as I learned.</p><p>The first day I left for work, I came home to find him sobbing. When I asked him what happened, he hiccupped and said “I thought you left. I would be a-alone again. Please don’t leave!”<br/>
I couldn’t help the fact that I wrapped my arms around him.<br/>
I found out I could touch him.<br/>
He clutched at my shirt and bawled his heart out.</p><p>That made me sad.</p><p>He climbed into bed that night with me. Part of me wanted me to tell him to go. Another part of me wanted to hold him tight.<br/>
What was happening?</p><p>The next day, the entire time I spent working, my thoughts kept drifting to him. I thought about how he smiled, how his laugh was like a clear stream. How he held onto me the night before.</p><p>That’s when it sunk in.<br/>
The realisation hitting me like a truck.</p><p>I missed him.</p><p>I missed him enough to go back home and hug him. </p><p>Missed him enough to feel out of place.</p><p>I wanted to go to him, to hold him, to whisper to him that he was the sense of familiarity in my life. To tell him I didn’t realise when, or how, by some happenstance or design of fate, he became my home.<br/>
4 months turned to a year, which turned to two. </p><p>Peter never left. Or rather, I didn’t leave him. I could not. He was the only constant in my life. The rock of support. I got so used to coming home to him. I got used to his presence. To his sparkly eyes. To his curly hair.To him climbing up the walls with his spider-like tendencies. To his chelicerae, which sometimes came out if he had a nightmare. To him climbing into my bed if he felt unsafe. To the feeling of his body, cold, but in a comforting way. To his tears. To his smile.  To him. </p><p>I got so used to loving him, that I didn’t realise when I started to fall in love with him.</p><p>I realised it when we were watching a rom-com and suddenly there was the unbidden, fleeting image of me kissing him.<br/>
I realised a tad bit too late.<br/>
I was already past the point of return by then.</p><p>I had fallen in love with a ghost.<br/>
The next few weeks were hard.<br/>
I wanted to hold him, kiss him, keep him with me forever. </p><p>But I held back.</p><p>Why I held back?<br/>
Because I never knew whether he loved me or not. </p><p>Whether the “butterflies” in my stomach were only for me or not.<br/>
I hoped it wasn’t, but I never knew.<br/>
I started to ignore him.<br/>
Stupid decision really. </p><p>But I tried to ignore him. I stopped talking to him much. </p><p>He was hurt, and it showed.<br/>
We were the only sense of familiarity in each others’ lives, we were our home.</p><p>And I was hurting him. </p><p>I hated myself for hurting him. But I didn’t know how to react. How is a person supposed to react if they fall in love with a ghost?</p><p>I might have continued if he didn’t stop me one day. I was about to leave for work when he grasped my hand.<br/>
“Harley, stop.”<br/>
I never heard such authority in his voice before.<br/>
It sent shivers down my spine. I tried to free my hand, but he held only tighter.<br/>
“You’ve been ignoring me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.<br/>
“Did I do something wrong? Somehow hurt you? Please I swear I didn’t mean to If I did. I never could’ve. Please tell me, I’ll do my best to fix it, to set it right. Jut tell me. Please don’t stop talking, please I miss, it’s like you’re here but not really and I hate it. Please, Harley. Please, say something, anything, scream at me, shout, just say something. Please, Harley, I beg you,” his voice cracked.</p><p>I hate myself. </p><p>Hate me for hurting him. For making him think he did something wrong. </p><p>“What do you want me to say? To say that you’ve done something wrong? To say that you are wrong? To say that it’s because of you I can’t think straight? Or that you are always on my mind? Or that I can’t stop thinking about you? How you smile when you are happy, how you jump up watching horror flicks? How you prefer corners of the room, due to the spider in you? What do you want me to say? My voice rose to a scream.</p><p>“Harley…”</p><p>“What do you want me to say? You want me to say I love you? There I’ve said it. Loud and clear. I. Love. You. Despite you being a ghost, despite you being part-spider, I love you. I love the way your eyes shine when you see or do something you love. I love the way you hold me when you’re scared. I love you. Happy?” </p><p>My hard breathing was the only thing I heard before he hugged me. A bone-crushing hug. He nestled his face in the crook of my neck. Voice muffled, what he said shocked me.<br/>
“You could’ve told me before. I’ve never loved anyone before, but I love you, Harley. I love how you hold me when I’m scared. I love how you didn’t leave me. I love that you are my home. I love you,”</p><p>“I love you too, Peter.”</p><p>______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p><p>My name is Harley Keener, and I love Peter Parker, a ghost.<br/>
He is the biggest dork I know, and I love him.</p><p>I don’t know how this will end up, or what future lies ahead of us.<br/>
But one thing’s for sure, I love him, and I’ll never stop loving him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first parkner fic.<br/>I hope its nice.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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